


Into the light

by behzaintfunny



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (s), Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/pseuds/behzaintfunny
Summary: "The Knight of Flowers, they used to call him. He used to imagine flowers blossoming from the floor he clinged to as though an escape would open underneath his body, but none ever came."The briefest moment of reconcilement Loras is gifted before a bitter end.





	Into the light

An unsettling rustle had been reverberating through his mind long after death had taken him into her arms. Like a mother who reconciles with her long lost child, she took him away into eternal abyss and beyond. Her caress felt almost soothing on his ached skin, and the muscles underneath that have forgotten the weight of his sword and shield. It felt unnervingly good to alas reach release he had long silently craved.

_Confess._

The distant crackling of wildfire didn't stop playing in his head even for a second as the invisible line between consciousness and nonexistence became less and less divine.

Crackle after crackle, all that was left of him was dust, yet, at the same time, so much more than that.

The havoc in his head eventually ceases to be, and with it, the burning panic that had been consuming Loras' heart for what feels like eternity. A gentle hue of light illuminates what seems to be a meadow filled with all kinds of most special flowers. Forget-me-nots and their unforgettable blue tint, accompanied by a myriad of different dasies and wildflowers. They are all mere elements in a far greater whole, overpowered by stunning roses. Red and pink alike, they fight for dominance all the same. In a meadow filled with flowers, they wear a crown of dew and pollen.

But what does it matter if the world doesn't end on this stunning meadow?

The gentlest of caresses of hands, creeping up his stomach, makes him regain certain consciousness. They graze over his defined ribs, hollow spaces with scarce graying skin, so unlike when they last touched him all those years ago. To Loras, it feels less and less like a distant memory and more like the darkest creation of his twisted mind, one he should take no pleasure in revisiting.

 _Don't touch me_ , he silently pleads. His eyes shut close, suddenly overwhelmed with too many vastly different emotions at once. Warm streaks of tears run down his cheeks but it is not because of pain, as much as he wishes.

It brings up too many repressed memories that awaken a sudden warmth in the depths of his heart. Loras clings onto the hands that love him, unable to stop himself any further, and holds on for dear life. He squeezes them with utmost restraint, desperately needing to anchor himself to something real. He feels himself drifting away with every passing moment, to run amongst the sun and the stars, but he needs to remain grounded. When lips start kissing up his neck, pleasuring at the clawed skin that has seen merrier days, he throws his head back. He chokes down another sob, warmth pulsating from the body that's capturing him.

 _"Renly,"_ he sobs, though it comes out more wretched than he had ever expected. It is the only set of letters his vocal chords have enough strength to produce, as it always has been. As Renly leaves a scarce kiss underneath his earlobe, bare as a feather's touch, he cannot restrain himself any longer from turning around.

He sees him just as he had remembered him. The picture of perfection, a calmness in his eyes that no other man has ever shown him, or anyone, likely. His hairline still caves in slightly where his crown used to lay, or maybe Loras had always imagined this improper halo all along. Not a single hair is out of place, not even as Loras runs his fingers through it with disbelief. He tilts his head and ponders the beauty placed upon his path the way he always had. His hands find Renly's shoulders like they always have, pulling him closer, closer and _closer_.

"Talk to me, Renly," he grits, "Hold me. _Anything_."

Renly's arms wound around his waist, accepting him in a space of his own, a touch so familiar yet incredibly foreign. Eye to eye, they are bare before the Seven's merciless judgement. Loras hides his face against Renly's shoulder, back where he belongs at last, too ashamed to be seen in such state. He concludes, the Gods have punished him enough. He cannot bear this judgement he is far more terrified of. They are together again, imperfectly whole, if only for a few fleeting moments. It is more than Loras could have ever hoped for.

 _Confess_.

He cries against Renly's unbearably warm body, reborn and just the way he remembers him, with wretched sobs that cause tremors to flow through his body. All the remnants of his pride and dignity died a long time ago, in a cell underneath the ground, where all his confessions were buried like the blood and tears on the filthy soil. Four dark walls that suffocated him from the inside, his own personal hell on Earth, and not a single person to hear him cry save for the dozens of septons that beat his tears back into his eyes. Loras died in that cell and was never reborn, unlike Renly who, even in death, never did lose his charm.

The Knight of Flowers, they used to call him. He used to imagine flowers blossoming from the floor he clinged to as though an escape would open underneath his body, but none ever came.

One flower, one incredibly broken flower, with auburn curls warmer than any far away place in Essos could ever be, and a set of eyes that heal even the most wounded. Its roots growing strong into the poisoned soil, avoiding all of it with grace only a rose resembles. It blossomed and died so quickly, in his very arms. A part of it lost itself in that cell, that prison, with Loras, never to see the sunlight again. Her most genuine, sweetest touch, plounging hope back into his body that would soon die as well... Only a bittersweet memory now. He will never see her delicate petals falling to ground, eaten alive by wildfire, mere ashes flowing in the breeze. He will never mourn for her.

Renly shifts away from him, a cold breeze between their burning chests. Loras seeks him with his hand desperately but he cannot, will never, reach. Renly is already gone, mist and shadows flowing in nonexistence, and this time it is forever. He feels impossibly empty all of a sudden.

His other hand seeks Margaery's own but it meets only air. She is already gone.

 _He_ is gone.

Then, there is nothing.

The smell of burning carcasses, the faintest streak of roses, and neverending silence. Loras weeps for everything dear he had lost, the last opportunity he has, though it causes no sound. The great space before his very eyes not a single man had the opportunity to tell anyone about, merely a field of bodies like many others he had seen before.

Stars glimmer at the pools of blood from a far away distance, illuminating a path Loras would never follow.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my OneNote folder for ages now. I'm deciding it's never quite going to be finished. There's room for your own imagination to implement itself into this short story.
> 
> Title is from In This Moment titled as my fic because of course it is.
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated and welcomed!


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